


Honey Colored Heart - Another Story

by NightshadeDawn



Series: Honey Colored Heart [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cats, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pining, Talking Animals, the cats talk but are only understood by each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:00:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightshadeDawn/pseuds/NightshadeDawn
Summary: All of these are different short stories from the point of view of any other character but Kacie Addams, the main protagonist of Honey Colored Heart. Prior knowledge of that series would be helpful in understanding any of these.





	1. Table of Contents

**Hello and welcome. This first chapter will hold no story. Instead, it's simply here to explain how this book will be set up.**

1 - When I upload a new chapter, I will put the chapter tittle _here_ for you to see where it is in the timeline. All chapters in the list below will be in chronological order, as best as I can make it. 

2 - When I upload, I will not put anything that would be a spoiler for the main story. If something happens in the first book, but you don't find out about it until the third, I won't post the story detailing what happened until the third book is completed. 

3 - Along those same lines, if I get to book three short stories, I will still upload short stories for year one and two. Inspiration comes at random.

4 - Most, and I say _most_, of these stories are light and fluffy. But I have a large variety of characters with a large variety of backgrounds. Some of them are not so great. Be warned, read the notes. I'll tell you if there are thing you should be wary of.

**With that out of the way, you'd like the list I promised, wouldn't you?**

* * *

Outside the Books

_None_

Year 1

1 - Hard to Hold

2 - Kitty Cats in the Common Room

3 - Dirty Too

4 - Imperfect Prefects

5 - Stormy Eyes, Telling Lies (1)

Year 2

_None_

Year 3

_None_

Year 4

_None_

Year 5

_None_

Year 6

_None_

Year 7

_None_

After Hogwarts

_None_


	2. Hard to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max has had these issues since he was a kid, and it's honestly not fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of implied child rape, child neglect, and abusive/controlling relationships.
> 
> I do not claim to hold any of the same views as any of these characters.

Max first noticed something amiss with his parents, with the people around him and with his life, when he was four years old. 

It was his parents first. 

His mother… his beautiful, charming, _ ethereal _mother. She was French, and that had always had their neighbors turning up their noses. “Gold digger,” the muggles murmured. “Veela,” said the wizards. 

Séraphine Reece often had men in the house. She never let them farther than the dining room, keeping Max upstairs during those meetings, but she always ended up with _ something _new. Shiney. Valuable. 

Max would sit on the stairs, his hands gripped tightly around the poles, as he watched the men flaunt and fall over themselves to please her. 

Séraphine would laugh and giggle her tinkling little laugh, and she’d let them. 

But as soon as Vincent Reece walked through their front door, it was all about him. Séraphine would dote on him, take his coat. Run her hands down his arms, over his chest. Press a kiss to his sharp jaw. 

Vincent stood stiff, but he allowed it. Like the other men, he would dote on her and do everything he could to please his wife, and Séraphine would giggle girlishly and let him. But as soon as she was out of the room and out of sight, Vincent would rush away and close himself off in his office.

Max was six before he realized they slept in different rooms, and that Vincent only opened the door to him. 

It didn’t take long after the realization that Vincent didn’t _ want _ to be married to Séraphine. But everytime he tried to bring it up, they fought. And when they fought… things got… _ weird_. 

Max learned that Séraphine was one fourth Veela. And she had certain powers Veelas had. Namely, the power over _ men_. A specific power that researchers couldn’t quite find a cause for, but some said was attributed to pheromones that only effected men. Others argued it affected all those attracted to females, but that was another matter entirely. 

The point was that each time Vincent and Séraphine fought, her power got stronger. And Vincent was helpless against her. He’d never win an argument as long as it was with her. 

But Séraphine wasn’t the only one to have Veela blood. 

And when Max was eight years old, he learned what it meant to have Veela blood too. 

The too hot, clammy hands running up and down his back and stomach while a knee held him in the ground, hidden behind a bush and away from the practically deserted playground. His shirt was stuffed into his mouth to keep him from calling out, a belt bound his wrists to keep him from fighting.

He wept, the tears falling in steams down his face, as the man above him whispered things Max didn’t understand. 

He remembers the sudden lack of weight, and then being held tightly in his father’s arms. Still being held so tightly as Vincent returned home. How Vincent yelled at Séraphine. 

The pheromones didn’t work on him that day.

“-he violated my son!”

“Your son?!” Séraphine shouted. “He is _ our _ son- _ we _created him-”

“You wretched woman! I never wished for this! I did not do so willingly! I married you so I could take care of this boy- something you _ refuse _to do-”

“I do take care of him!”

“And yet you refuse to teach him how to control it-”

“You should be overjoyed! I thought perhaps he _ hadn’t _inherited my blood-”

“It would have been all the better if he hadn’t!” Vincent roared, holding Max tight. Max’s eyes were red, his glasses crooked. But he only held on tightly to his father’s shirt. “This will continue to happen again and again unless you _ help him_-”

A heavy weight fell over the room. And then Séraphine was running her hands over Vincent’s shoulders, kissing his neck, his cheek, his lips. Her fingers in his hair. 

“Isn’t that better?” she mused. “I’m not going to keep telling you, dear… he doesn’t need the training… as if I could teach him anyway. I never learned how. Never wanted to, dear. It led me to you, and men only want to impress pretty girls and woo them… it’s only the nasty faggots who would try to defile Maxwell…”

As always, Vincent lost the argument. 

Séraphine was always so _ charming_. Beautiful and persuasive, even if she was cold. Especially when she was cold.

Max learned to hate her. 

When she learned he was trying to learn to control the pheromones on his own when he first turned eleven, she took all the books and resources away, disintegrating them. 

“You don’t need them,” she said, sitting across from him at the dining room table. She was leaning on her hands, framed by gold both from her hair and the light shining through the window. She gave Max a serene smile. It chilled him to the bone. “Some day, you’ll find a nice, rich young man who will take care of you for the rest of your life.”

Max’s hand clenched. His body shook. Fury? Fear? Who knows.

“I’m not like you,” he seethed.

Séraphine laughed lightly, tinkling like sweet little bells. She laughed like Max had told her the most wondrously funny joke. “My dear, it is the only thing that can happen.”

“I thought you hated gay relationships.”

Séraphine tilted her head, her eyes wide and all-seeing. Chilling. Cold. “But it’s inevitable, isn’t it?” she mused. “After all, what girl would marry a man like you?”

Once he’d gone to Hogwarts, had been sorted in Ravenclaw, he thought things would be different. 

His father hugged him tight after the fifth year had been expelled. “I’m sorry, son,” he whispered, and Max wanted to sob into his chest like he was a child again, even if it would cause him nothing but embarrassment. 

His mother placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning to whisper in his ear: “He just wasn’t the right one.”

Max decreed he needed to perfect his shield charms if he couldn’t quell his pheromones.


	3. Kitty Cats in the Common Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group of lazy cats converge for a nap in the Hufflepuff common room.

Tiny paws padded silently on the stone floor, creeping along in the darkness. Gleaming green eyes met blue, then a sprint, and she launched. 

“Got you!” Mittens yowled, landing on Agatha’s back. 

Agatha let out a huff of irritation, flicking her ears and rolling her shoulders to try to dislodge Mittens. Albert jumped onto the yellow couch she was laid out on. Agatha shot Albert a glare, but Albert only purred a laugh. 

“You’ve done well, kit,” he purred to Mittens. “That was much better than last time.”

Mittens let out a mew of happiness, but she batted at Agatha’s flicking, wiry tail. Agatha’s tail flicked Mittens and she tumbled off of her back, though she giggled when she hit the couch. Agatha gave her son an unimpressed look. 

“Why in Merlin’s name do you bother with this rambunctious kit?” Agatha growled. Albert chuckled again.

Mittens jumped up and went to jump at Agatha again. Albert put a paw on her tail to keep her in place. She turned to bat at them, her claws unsheathed but dull and doing nothing to him. 

“I wonder why you don’t bother more, Mother,” Albert said. He swiped at Mittens and she ducked under his paw, and of instead of launching herself at Agatha, jumped towards Albert. The most she managed to do was land on him. Albert purred in amusement. “After all, your kits are companions, aren’t they?”

Mittens swatted Albert with her tail, trying to gnaw on his shoulder. She sat on her haunches, looking up at him with her eerily green eyes. She blinked. “But I’m too young to have kits,” she mewed. 

“Tch,” Agatha grumbled, settling further into the couch with a good stretch. “Did your litter mother not teach you nothing? As the superior species, we are chosen to watch over the hairless ones. They are like large, dumb, hairless kits. Much like you.” She swatted Mittens with her tail. 

Mittens hissed indignantly, jumping and turning on Agatha. “I’m not hairless! I take good care of my fur! Kacie does too! She brushed me just this morning!”

Agatha yowled out a laugh, and Mittens whined when Albert joined her. Mittens sniffed then turned away, intending to jump off the couch. Before she could, Albert took her by the scruff of her neck and brought her to where Agatha sat. He plopped her down right in front of Agatha and Agatha took her into her front legs, holding her still and beginning to smooth down her fur with her tongue.

“That particular kit _ is _ more nervous than many others, isn’t she?” Albert mused, talking of Kacie. “Unlike _ Jenna_. That kit could do with taking time to relax.”

Agatha let out a huff of acknowledgement as much as it was of irritation at Mittens’ wiggling. Mittens whined when Agatha didn’t let her go even with all of her fidgeting. “Lemme go!” she yowled. “I just got my fur brushed!”

“Hush, kit. I might nick you otherwise.”

Mittens whined but settled down between Agatha’s paws. She let out a purr as Agatha continued. 

“Agatha?”

“What is it, kit?”

“Do you not like Jenna?” Mitten closed one eye and flicked her ear as she turned her head to look at Agatha. “She’s pretty nice. And she’s Kacie’s friend, and Kacie has a hard time making those. But you always scratch her up and make her bleed.”

Agatha let out a small growl in thought. She nudged Mittens head so she’d turn around. Mittens complied with little fight. “She’s mine as much as Albert is my kit, but that pup will be the death of me. It’s natural instinct to be both wary and hostile to her. You smell it as well, don’t you?”

Mittens mewed thoughtfully. “I don’t remember smelling anything weird about her.”

Albert licked Mittens face and she let out a squeal. “You should be able to,” he purred. “But if you haven’t been around a lot of them…”

Mittens rubbed at her face with her paw. “I don’t smell anything weird about Jenna,” she insisted. “But _ Johnny _smells weird. He smells like too many things to be real.”

Albert chuckled, nosing Mittens’ cheek. “Johnny is a lot of things, but he’s not dangerous. You don’t need to be wary of him.”

Mittens purred, rubbing her face against Albert’s. “We’re friends, right?”

“No,” Agatha hissed.

“Of course we are,” Albert interrupted, causing Agatha to huff when he laid next to her. 

“Albert, you are too old to be curling next to me like a newborn kit.”

“Yes, Mother.”

But he didn’t move, instead he curled into a ball and let his tail flop over his nose. Agatha seemed to roll her eyes. But she licked his ear before settling again. Mittens began to make her way back to the edge of the couch. Agatha stared at her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Mittens’ fur stood on edge and she jumped, turning guiltily to Agatha. “Back to the bedroom…?”

Agatha growled. “Get back over here, kit, and take a nap.” Mittens eyed her warily. Agatha huffed. “Perhaps I’ll teach you how to _ really _ hunt when we awaken. Albert has never caught a mouse to save his life.”

“I heard that, Mother.”

“Good. If you didn’t have your kit feeding you every meal, you would have died a long time ago. You’ve never even been able to give him a thank you gift! Ungrateful kit. I taught you better.”

Albert grumbled, but Mittens happily bounded over to them and curled between them, dwarfed by their full sizes. 

Agatha curled around her, her tail curling over Mittens, and the three fell into a peaceful sleep.


	4. Dirty Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hufflepuffs stand up for each other. It's what they do. The need runs deeper when they're both muggleborn.

Over the last several months that Éowyn had gotten to known Kacie Addams, she had learned that she didn’t talk a lot. She didn’t like to burden people with anything on her mind, be that homework or bullying. 

The bullying Éowyn had only learned of because Annie and Anthony had made an announcement during a house meeting while Kacie was off somewhere, disappeared like she often was. Annie and Anthony explained how the situation was usually handled in the past. Generally, it started a one sided prank war. The Slytherins didn’t much like retaliating in such a ‘crude’ way.

Éowyn sat quietly as plans were made. She hadn’t been raised with the ability of knowing any sort of good pranks to pull. So she listened intently and paid close attention, in case she ever needed to know more or use any of the information given.

But the pranking of the Slytherins didn’t seem to deter them, Éowyn noticed. She noticed Kacie running off just as much, if not more, than before. When she saw her three original tormentors, she disappeared in the blink of an eye. Even Jenna and Heather couldn’t place her.

It was a rather hard day for everyone. A week of rain, and no ability to go outside unless it was to the greenhouses, and you got soaked the moment you stepped anywhere without a roof. The ground was muddy and sloppy. Everything was cold and wet. It made everyone on edge and irritated. 

But that didn’t excuse the “mudblood” shot at Kacie from Darrell- the boy- as she walked out of the classroom. The boy snickered as Kacie hurried past, her head down and her ears red. Éowyn might have said she was crying, if she’d ever seen Kacie cry and knew what it looked like. 

Éowyn’s brows furrowed. “You’re a right bully, Damien Darrell!” she shouted down the hall at him. He looked up at her with a frown.

“Oh really?” he sneered. “Didn’t notice.”

Éowyn huffed, even as Estella tried to hold her back. “Don’t do it, Wynni,” Estella warned. 

Éowyn stood tall, her back straight and her expression cold. “So muggle borns have _ dirty blood_?” she questioned, slowly making her way to Darrell. “That’s why they’re called _ mudbloods_?”

Darrell smirked. “Of course,” he stated. 

Éowyn licked her palm and smacked him right across the cheek with it. He stared at her in complete surprise. Éowyn’s hand shook where it was still held in the air. Her palm stung. 

“Now you’re dirty too,” she said as she lowered her hand. 

She joined Estella and Lysander and they began heading to lunch, leaving the group of stunned Slytherins behind.


	5. Imperfect Prefects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is, Annie's got a secret. And she's not telling.

Tonks laughed at Annie’s plight. Annie, in return, smacked her with with her book. 

“It’s not _ funny_!” Annie exclaimed, her face burning. Tonks continued to laugh even as she shielded herself from Annie’s attack. 

“It kinda is, though,” she giggled, making Annie frown. Tonks’ laughing quieted down and she patted Annie’s shoulder. “Come on, you should just _ tell _him.”

Annie pouted, folding her arms over her chest. “You know I can’t!” she exclaimed. “Besides- I don’t think Tony even _ likes _ girls.”

Tonks raised a purple eyebrow. “Oh?” she said. 

Annie gripped at her hair. “He’s got the biggest man-crush on Charlie that I’ve ever seen!” she exclaimed. 

“Yeah, but _ everyone _ has had a crush on Charlie. Have you seen that man?”

Annie snorted but curled into a ball with her head in Tonks’ lap. “True,” she said. She closed her eyes and laughed. “Those arms are honestly jealousy inducing. Merlin, he gives good hugs.”

“The _ best _ hugs,” Tonks agreed. She let out a forlorn sigh. “Too bad Torry's the only one who gets them anymore.”

“I heard she was trying to graduate early too so she could join him in Romania.”

“Who knows if that’ll even work out. She was always been a bit more like Bill than Charlie.”

“_Too _ much like Bill. Those two hated each other's guts!”

Tonks and Annie laughed, but then Tonks smacked Annie. Annie let out a squawk. 

“What was that for?!” she exclaimed. 

“You trying to change the subject on me!” Tonks replied. “Anthony is the biggest bi-disaster I’ve ever _ met_, so honestly the worst he could say is _ you’re not my type_.”

Annie folded her arms petulantly. “I _ know _ I’m not his type,” she grumbled. “Because I’m not a _ guy_.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t see how he looks at you.”

“He looks at me like an irritating sister. He’s said as much himself.”

Tonks let out a long suffering sigh before pushing Annie off of her. “Unfortunately, I have no more time to help you figure out your love life because I have to get sleep before McGonagall’s test tomorrow.”

“Noooooo,” Annie whined when Tonks got up. She reached out for Tonks even as she headed for the dormitory. “Tooooonks, don’t leeeeave me. I need help!”

“You’re beyond it!” Tonks called over her shoulder. “Go talk to Anthony!”

Annie grumbled as the door shut behind Tonks. After a few minutes of moping on the couch, Annie stood and made her way to the prefects bedrooms. There were only two of those, and they only held three beds, one for the prefects of each year. The Head Girl and Boy had their own, when they were Hufflepuff. 

The other two female prefects had already gone to bed some time ago, both more punctual than Annie herself, and Annie didn’t really feel like dealing with them and their incessant need for complete silence. 

So instead, she opened the door to the boys’ room. The only one in there was Anthony, sitting on his bed and reading a book, his reading glasses perched on his nose. Without a word, or even looking up, Anthony held up the edge of his quilt and Annie climbed under it, curling up against Anthony’s side. He placed an arm around her and went back to reading. Annie closed her eyes and focused on Anthony’s heartbeat in her ears. 

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked after a time, her hand twisting in Anthony’s night shirt. 

“Nothing,” he replied. 

Annie hummed, disbelieving. “You haven’t turned the page in five minutes. If you’re too deep in thought to even read, it must be serious.”

Annie opened her eyes and looked up to Anthony. Anthony sighed and pulled his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand. He patted Annie’s head after setting his book aside as well.

“It just… bothers me that this will continue to happen no matter what,” he said mournfully. “Even after we leave. Especially after we leave.” Annie furrowed her eyebrows.

“The thing with Kacie?”

“Yeah.”

The two didn’t talk for several minutes, the silence drawing long between them. But they didn’t need words. 

The biggest, perhaps only, reason the two had even started talking back when they were third years was because Anthony had been harrassed because of his muggleborn status, and Annie hadn’t stood for it when she witnessed it. 

Geeky, dorky little Anthony had pushed her away, even after Annie found out about the length the purebloodists went to, and how long it had gone on. It was probably more likely he pushed so hard _ because _ she found out. 

But tiny, halfblood Annie Cobbs had pushed right back. She pushed and pushed and pushed- until Anthony let her in. And that’s where she’d stayed. Because she’d needed him as much as he needed her. 

Annie wrapped her arms tightly around Anthony. “There will always be horrible people in the world. The best we can do is teach them how to stand up for themselves,” she muttered. “And how to protect each other.”

Anthony sighed. “I know. I just wish we could do more.”

“Hey, Tony? Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Yeah.” 

There was silence for a couple moments, then Anthony pushed her out of the bed. Annie let out an indigent shriek as she just barely caught herself from falling on the floor. 

“Go change first,” he said, laying down in the bed. He grinned at Annie. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your side of the bed warm,” he teased. 

Annie rolled her eyes as she stood. She ruffled Anthony’s hair. “Alright, fine you spoil sport. I could just strip here.”

“And ruin your perfectly pristine reputation? No thanks. I won’t have that on me.”

Annie rolled her eyes again and made to leave the room. As long as they could have those moments, she’d be fine. It didn’t matter if things changed in the future and it wasn’t the two of them anymore, if he got in a relationship, because as long as she got _ these _moments, then she’d be okay. She could be okay.

She’d be fine.

Annie sighed as she leaned against the door to her dorm room. “I’m so screwed.”


	6. Stormy Eye, Telling Lies (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kacie isn't the only one with a story to tell. Lydia has one too.

Lydia Addams was two years old when her sister Kassandra was born, and suddenly she’d become the seventh of eight. 

She was four when she first decided that Kacie was a freak. Though ‘freak’ wasn’t the word Lydia had used. It was only ‘weird’. Lydia didn’t know what it was about her little sister, but she knew, practically from the very beginning, that Kacie was _ different_. 

Kacie, who cried when she fell down. Kacie, who was scared of everything. Kacie, who was squeamish around bugs and didn’t like getting dirty but didn’t like to clean up after herself. Kacie, who wore pretty frilly dresses and liked to have her hair curled or put up in elaborate braids. Kacie, who was the perfect picture of a beautiful little daughter.

And Lydia was her exact opposite. 

Lydia was seven the first time she screamed and refused to wear one of her dresses. After that, she didn’t wear one again. She ignored Kacie and her pretty dresses, instead going outside and playing with the neighborhood boys and getting dirt smudges on her cheeks and scabs on her knees then going back to her room and making sure every stuffed animal and book and pen was still in its place.

But Lydia was eight when she realized that Kacie didn’t laugh as loudly or smile as brightly around their father. Lydia didn’t believe in magic, hadn’t really ever done so, but Kacie flinched whenever Joseph Addams angrily emphasized that magic wasn’t _ real_, and just the mere idea of it was the Devil’s work and you’d go to hell if you tried to practice it. 

Lydia didn’t say anything. She didn’t believe in magic. But some days she stood closer to Kacie. Some days she’d stay inside and let Kacie cohere her into playing dolls. 

Lydia was ten when she first heard her parents yelling at each other. She’d pushed Kacie outside, not wanting her to hear the fighting- but the horrified face Kacie made let her know she’d heard anyway. Lydia pretended that night that she didn’t hear Kacie crying herself to sleep. 

Kacie stopped crying after a while when Joseph and Laura fought. But she also stopped sleeping. “I do that sometimes,” Kacie said when Lydia pointed out the dark circles under her eyes. “I just… don’t sleep. It’s been like that for a long time.”

Lydia wondered just how much she didn’t know about her little sister. 

She was eleven when her parents finally divorced. Laura had told her and Kacie to pack a bag or two and get ready to leave while Joseph was at work. They’d done so. Then they stayed at Aunt Lucy’s until Laura got them a house in England. 

“Aberdeen is lovely,” she said as they rode the plane. Lydia thought such a far move was excessive. She had friends, a life, back in America. And so she was angry. 

Kacie stopped sleeping again. Four nights in a row, she didn’t sleep. The days leading up to their first day at their new school. Lydia stood at the end of the hallway, just being removed from the principal’s office for not wearing the correct uniform, when she saw Kacie collapse.

Lydia was a blur as she ran to Kacie’s side. She was pale and clammy and completely unconscious. The nurse said she was only exhausted and dehydrated and she’d be fine after a little water and rest. 

_ Why do I need to take care of her? She can take care of herself. _

With their father not around, Lydia thought that Kacie would get _ better_. That she’d stop her stuttering that _ grated _ on Lydia’s nerves. She’d stop being so clingy, she’d stop being so closed off, she’d open up and _ just stop being so irritating_. But she didn’t. She only seemed to get _ worse _. 

It didn’t help that Laura always seemed so tense when it came to paying bills or school tuition. 

“We can go to a different school,” Lydia said. “We can go to a more public school-”

“It’s fine, Lydia,” her mother said. “There’s no need for you to worry about it.”

Lydia wanted to argue, but when Laura took that tone, she couldn’t be moved. Lydia turned on her heels, passing Kacie while she sat in the living room, her nose deep in a book. 

_ So carefree. Her head up in the clouds. Doesn’t she see how little time we have for fantasy?! _

So Lydia fought. She fought Kacie, time and time again. Kacie continued on and on like there was nothing wrong with her, when they all knew something _ was_. And that irritated Lydia more than anything. 

“You’re a freak!” Lydia screamed one day, not realizing the words had been spoken out loud. But they had been said, and they couldn’t be taken back. 

Everything, everything, everything… it kept building. It tried to explode. Kacie was weird, she was a freak. But she was still Lydia’s sister. And she didn’t like to see Kacie picked on. But she didn’t want to be associated with her. Associating with Kacie left Lydia feeling out of control. 

She could feel the control slipping further out of reach when Kacie read that damned Hogwarts letter. It wasn’t just the control- it was _ Kacie_. Kacie, looking so happy and delighted, was slipping out of Lydia’s reach. 

She didn’t want to snap. She hadn’t meant to. But she had. She did. And Lydia couldn’t take it back. So she pushed further, like she always did. It was supposed to be a happy day for Kacie, but Lydia had ruined it because she lost control.

“You’re a menace, Lydia Addams.”

“So you and Mum endlessly tell me.”

Lydia couldn’t help but feel irritated. But she couldn’t tell if it was more at Kacie… or at herself. 

When Kacie fell down the stairs, everything around Lydia spun but still felt as if it were in slow motion. Lydia turned, and saw Kacie’s horrified expression and her hands reaching out for her big sister- Lydia was moving before she could realize she was doing so. 

Kacie was a crumpled heap on the ground when Lydia reached her, dazed and unresponsive. Lydia pushed the gathering students out of the way and knelt next to her, her hands becoming sticky and hot from the blood. 

“Oh my god. Mrs. Gartner, she’s bleeding from her head!” a girl from Kacie’s class screamed. 

Mrs. Gartner pushed through the crowd of students and her eyes went wide with horrified shock. “Who did this?!” she demanded, looking around at everyone. 

Henry Peirce had turned pale, though he was pushed to the front of the crowd. “She tripped, ma’am-”

“Don’t lie, you rotten little boy!” an older girl shouted. “Henry did it, Mrs. Gartner!”

Lydia leaned over Kacie, pressing her forehead to Kacie’s chest, trying to hear her sister’s heartbeat. _ Not yet, you little freak… _ She sat up and placed a hand on Kacie’s shoulder, looking at her fearfully. “Kacie. Kacie, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Kacie blinked slowly, a bit of focus coming back to her eyes as she looked at Lydia. 

“Um. I- Maybe.”

Lydia didn’t recognize anything afterwards. She breathed a sigh of relief. She took Kacie to the nurse and the nurse cleaned Kacie up, but Lydia had to be forcefully pushed out of the office. One of the students helping out the nurse wrapped a large white bandage around Kacie’s head, and the buzzing in Lydia’s ears grew. 

There was no control anymore. 

Lydia itched at her skin, feeling uncomfortable in it, when the strange lady in flowing robes came to their house. To talk about Kacie’s future. Lydia had an immediate dislike and distrust of her. 

_ You’re messing with our perfect schedule. Leave. Go away. Don’t take her away. _

Professor Sinistra didn’t take Kacie away. 

Lydia and Laura had to do that themselves. 

Lydia would never admit she envied Kacie for being able to see things she couldn’t, for being part of the world she only caught a glimpse of in her time in Diagon Alley. A spike of anger rose, however, when all Kacie had to do what smile and beg their mother and she got a _ cat_.

The anger dissipated somewhat when they arrived at the train station the day Kacie was set to leave. Lydia could feel her heart pounding against her chest. Kacie was getting further away. 

“Don’t be a big baby and cry. Although you probably will anyway.”

Lydia couldn’t look at Kacie. She wanted to cry. 

It wasn’t _ fair_. That Kacie got to be special and Lydia was… Lydia was nothing. She was the seventh of eight. Nothing. Absolutely worth nothing at all. 

Kacie got on the train, Lydia and Laura returned home, and Lydia pretended she didn’t cry herself to sleep that night. 

It was two weeks into October. Lydia sat on the front porch, bored and without much to do. She was supposed to be raking up the orange and red leaves, but she’d gotten that done within an hour and they were all stacked neatly in a pile, and now she just didn’t feel like going in. 

And then Henry Pierce rode up on his bike. His lips were turned down in a frown, and his brown-black hair was windswept. He held his bike upright with one foot on the ground. 

“Hey!” Lydia’s focus finally turned to him, the fog clearing from her eyes. Henry’s brows were furrowed. 

“What do _ you _want?” Lydia questioned with a tired sigh. 

“Kacie hasn’t been at school for a while. Why?”

“Why does an irritating gnat like you want to know?”

Henry seemed to be fuming. “I- I just- Would you tell me already?!”

Lydia tilted her head, her chin held in her hands and her elbows on her knees. “I don’t think I should. You made her fall down the stairs and could have seriously injured her.”

He was pink. “That was- It _ was _ an accident!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean-”

“Then all the times you’ve pushed her around? Pulled on her braids? Made her feel worthless?” Lydia didn’t like the reminder she was the same. “I don’t think you need anything more to do with my sister.” Even Lydia felt she didn’t.

Henry looked down. “Please.”

Lydia scoffed, looking away from him. “She’s not even here,” she said. “She… got a scholarship to another school. I’d be surprised if you ever saw her again, outside of seeking her out. Which I wouldn’t suggest you doing.”

Henry met Lydia’s chilling eyes, and stood frozen in place. Lydia blinked first, but Henry looked away. He pushed off the ground and situated back on his bike. 

“See ya,” he mumbled as he turned tail and ran. 

_ Funny little boy. _

Henry Pierce’s visits were not common, but they were regular enough that Lydia always knew he’d be there before he showed up. She always sat on the front step, waiting. And she always answered the same- “Kacie isn’t here. Go away.”

But one day in November, Lydia simply stared at Henry as he rode up. He climbed off his bike and let it fall to the ground. He ventured closer to Lydia, standing in front of her, though one or two meters away. His hands were clenched in fists. 

Lydia tilted her head and blinked slowly. “Why do you even want to talk to Kacie anyway?” she questioned. 

Henry didn’t answer for a moment. He looked to the ground, his cheeks turning bright pink. “She- She irritates me!” he exclaimed. “I kept- I kept trying to impress her, but she was never looking at me! So- So I tried to make her look at me, but then she just kept running away, and it irritated me!”

Lydia blinked at Henry, her eyes slowly going ever wider. “Wow. You… actually picked on my sister… because you like her. Wow. I never actually thought I’d see a case of that.”

Henry looked up with wide eyes. “N-No!” he shouted. “No way! I don’t-”

Lydia smirked, leaning into one of her palms. “You’re not fooling anyone, Henry Pierce.” Her smirk turned into a frown. “But you’re an idiot. A fool.” _ The same as you. _ “You hurt her, so you don’t deserve her.” _ Hypocrite. _ “At this point in time, I don’t think an apology would be enough.” _ Pot or kettle, Lydia? _

Henry’s shoulders shook. “But- But can’t I at least apologize? _ Please_. I just want to tell her I’m sorry.” He looked down. “It would make me feel better.”

“Why should you get to do anything that would make _ you _ feel better? Sorry won’t fix what you’ve done.” _ I should know. _ “She’s gone anyway. I’ve already told you.”

Henry stood still for several moments, then he turned around, got on his bike, and rode off. Lydia watched him go.

Early December, Dr. Stone suggested Lydia go talk to someone he only referred to as Daisy in front of her. Daisy would be able to figure out some of Lydia’s abnormal behavior. 

A week later, Lydia sat on a plush leather couch- a loveseat, rather, and Lydia practically sank into it when she sat between the cushions- across from the woman named Daisy. Daisy wasn’t the picture Lydia had imagined. She was barely taller than Lydia, and slightly plump, with freckles dashed across her cheeks and a pair of thick rimmed circle glasses on her nose. Her smile was too large, too bright. It was blinding. Lydia shuffled uncomfortably in her seat under Daisy’s gaze. She expected an interrogation, a barrage of questions, to jump right into figuring out what Lydia’s problem _ was_. In fact, that would have made her feel better. It probably would have been easier. Instead, Daisy just _ talked_. 

Anything and everything, though the focus was always on _ Lydia_. Lydia’s hobbies, Lydia’s studies, Lydia’s friends, Lydia’s favorite movies and shows and places to go. Everything about Lydia, that she wanted to talk about. 

Lydia went back every Wednesday. 

It was during December that Lydia realized how much of a burden had been lifted off of Laura’s shoulders when Kacie had gone off to Hogwarts. Besides the uniform and school supplies, Kacie’s schooling was free. And there was funds for muggleborns to help them out. But the school Laura sent Lydia to was expensive in every way, even with Lydia working for scholarships, and she still couldn’t understand why her mother sent her there. 

But it was the Wednesday after Christmas, after the phone call from America, that Lydia spoke for the first time about her father. 

“He looked at Kacie and he never saw anything wrong,” she said through gritted teeth, her hands clenched tightly in fists. “Even _ I _ could see the anxiety. And half the time, it was because of _ him _that she was scared.”

“What about you?” Daisy asked, pushing up her glasses. It wasn’t probing, but it felt invasive. Lydia didn’t want to tell her. She didn’t want to say _ anything_. It was too _ personal_. But she pushed the words out of her mouth. 

“It was only the fighting that scared me,” she admitted tensely. “Dad- we had a system with him. There was always a system, even if they didn’t know it. Every day was the same, every week. We _ always _did the same things on holidays, every year. But when they were fighting-” Lydia’s throat clogged. “The system was broken. The fights were random. I couldn’t make a system around it. I- I- I felt- ugh!” Lydia let out a shout of irritation and held her head in her arms. 

“Out of control?” Daisy suggested, and Lydia hesitated for a moment before nodding. 

They talked a bit about how Lydia made herself feel a little bit more in control. She always had to make sure the dishes were stacked correctly after her mother or sister did the dishes (if she did them herself, she already knew they were stacked properly). She had the unconscious habit of looking towards her bed whenever she entered the room to make sure her bed was made. When Laura was at work and Lydia was leaving the house, she checked the lock several times before she was able to leave. 

They were irritating inconveniences, because both Laura and Kacie _ knew _ how to stack dishes properly. Lydia _ always _ made her bed before she even left her bedroom in the morning. And she _ never _ forgot to lock the door on her way out, and the keys worked _ perfectly _ fine. But Lydia couldn’t stop doing them without feeling _ wrong _ and like her world was spiraling out of control.

They quickly moved onto another subject, and Lydia was grateful. Her chest actually felt lighter for the rest of the day. 

And things were mildly normal.

Except for the day at the park. A fire burned in Lydia as her fists clenched. She stood between Kacie and the group of boys who taunted her. 

“I’m warning you,” she seethed. “Leave her alone.”

The leader of the boys glared at Lydia. “We just wanna talk-”

“I highly doubt that, you big lout.”

“And what would you be able to do about it?”

“Likely not something pretty.”

The boy went to push Lydia, but she grabbed his wrist and harshly tugged him forward, throwing him off balance. She brought her knee up and kneed him in the groin. He landed with a groan on the ground. 

“You’re an awful human being to pick on kids younger than you.”

“And you’re just as much of a freak as your sister, Addams!”

Lydia saw red. _ Don’t compare me to her! Don’t you dare put me in with a freak like _ _ her__! _

She raised her fist to punch him, but her arm was grabbed by Kacie. Kacie’s eyes were wide, terrified. Watery and pleading. 

“Lydie, let’s just go home. I just wanna go home, Lydie.”

Lydia stared at her sister, the red slipping away. She growled, pulling her arm away from Kacie and kicking the boy on the ground. She turned on her heel and walked away, dragging Kacie after her. 

Lydia felt irritated on the day Kacie had to return to Hogwarts. Her knuckles were white in her pockets. 

“Don’t let any lame asses push you around! Just ‘cause I ain’t there doesn’t mean that you can let them pick on you.”

Kacie’s smile was bright, happy, relieved. Lydia turned her face away. 

The Wednesday after Kacie left, Lydia fidgeted in her seat in Daisy’s office. Her mind wouldn’t focus on the conversation at hand and her fingers kept twisting the end of her long sleeve. 

“Is something bothering you, Lydia?” Daisy asked, pushing her glasses up and peering at Lydia through them. 

Lydia looked down at her feet. “Kacie went back to school,” she said. “And the system- it’s all different again! She comes and she goes and she comes and she goes and the system keeps changing every time I get used to it!”

Daisy tilted her head and gave Lydia a small smile. “But couldn’t that be a system by itself?” she suggested. “She comes and she goes, but it’s always the same time. It’s a bit larger of a system, but couldn’t it be one?”

Reluctantly, Lydia had to agree.

Henry Pierce had taken to badgering Lydia about all sorts of things, of anything and everything, though the topic of Kacie rarely came up. He rode his bike next to Lydia when she walked home, even giving her a ride a couple of times. Lydia couldn’t find it in herself to hate him. He was just a dorky boy who was stupid in love with her little sister, even if he showed it the absolute wrong way.

His fourteen year old brother, Liam, was tall. His voice had dropped and he was something different from the other students. He had _ two _ piercings in his left ear, one a small silver hoop and the other a different colored jewel every day. He caught Lydia jumping onto the back of Henry’s bike one day and teased Henry relentlessly.

“Finally got your little girlfriend to notice you, huh?” he said, his hands deep in his trouser pockets. He looked Lydia up and down, licking his lips. “Doesn’t look much like the delicate little Kacie you keep talking about, little bro.”

Lydia scowled. “That’s because I’m _ not _ Kacie,” she snapped. “It’s _ Lydia_. Lydia Addams, if you must know.”

Liam’s lips quirked up into a grin. “Nice to meet you then, Lydia. Liam Pierce.”

There were times when Lydia forgot. She forgot that it wasn’t just her and her mother, she forgot that Kacie even existed at all or that she had siblings and family in America. But then there were other days when she forgot that Kacie was gone and she found herself upset when she remembered. 

Lydia completely forgot about Kacie when Liam took her to the movies one day in February. He didn’t berate her or tease her for her coarse attitude and blunt way of speaking. He didn’t tell her to act more like a lady, and laughed loudly when she snorted a milkshake through her nose. Liam looked at Lydia, and he only saw Lydia. Nothing and no one else.

And the satisfaction, the attention he brought her was enough to even forget about everything. 

That she was broken. That her mother didn’t know how to do anything about it. That Kacie was special, and Lydia wasn’t. That “Kacie” existed at all. 

She even forgot it was her sister’s birthday.

Some time in March, Lydia realized she might have a crush on Liam Pierce. 

The idea got her so frustrated.

The detention she’d gotten at school for coming in the wrong uniform had her fuming by the time she got to her meeting with Daisy. 

“Do you know why?” Daisy asked. “It’s okay not to. We can talk about something else.”

But Lydia didn’t want to. It was something that had settled heavy on her chest, and she wanted it _ off_. Her hands clenched into her trousers. 

“What boy would like _ me _ ?” she finally hissed. “I look like a boy. I act like a boy. I want to be _ pretty_, I want to wear _ dresses _ and learn how to do my _ hair _ and put on _ makeup_, but I _ can’t_. I _ can’t _ because that’s who _ she _ is and I’m not like her-” The _ she _didn’t have to be named, nor did the reason Lydia didn’t want her all too similar, simmering feelings of too alikeness to her sister.

Daisy tilted her head curiously. “Who says?” she asked. “Movies, the outdoors, hiking, playing ball or any number of things… who says you can’t like them, but also like to feel pretty? Do your hair, take care of and pamper yourself. Put on a pretty dress one day, but then the next go out and play in the dirt if you wish. You’re not defined by anyone but yourself, Lydia.”

Lydia mused, but didn’t speak more on the subject for the rest of the meeting.

The next day, she snuck out of the house after school with all her saved up allowance money and went to the store, buying the first dress she’d worn since she was seven years old, and some things she remembered being in her mother’s makeup box.

Laura’s eyes widened and she gaped when Lydia stood awkwardly in the doorway. The dress was two sizes too big (Lydia hadn’t much thought about trying it on, only took one that looked nice enough and comfortable and hadn’t thought much else about it), and the makeup was a right mess. Lydia stared at the ground in embarrassment. 

“This was- I’m just going to go change. I’m never wearing these again-”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Laura exclaimed, getting to her feet and pulling out the loose skirt of the dress. “It wouldn’t take much effort to bring the dress in. And when you grow some more, I can take the hem out and you’ll still be able to wear it!” She dropped the skirt and cupped Lydia’s face. “And this makeup only needs a little bit of work. I think I have some colors that would look better on you if you want to try them?”

Lydia hesitated, but then she nodded. Laura beamed and took Lydia to the bathroom first, to teach her how to properly wash off makeup.

In April, she dared to wear the skirt to school. Everyone gawked at her, and it made her neck burn. She decided that wasn’t happening again. 

It was May second, Lydia’s fourteenth birthday, when Liam officially asked her out on a “date.” Lydia’s first one. She picked out the dress she wore herself (this time, it fit her properly) and did her own makeup. She was a quick study, it seemed.

It was a simple date. Lunch, then they went to see ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze,’ because Lydia had always liked it, even if it was a bit fantastical. A little strange, more than a bit odd. But she’d liked the relationship between Casey and April in the first one. She was rather disappointed about the lack of Casey in the film, but had fun discussing it back and forth with Liam. 

He held her hand as he walked her home, and kissed her cheek on her doorstep. Lydia turned bright pink, and rolled her eyes, but didn’t look straight at him for a moment. Instead, she crossed her arms. 

“You Peirce boys sure have a thing for us Addams girls, don’t you?” she teased, managing to look at him with a quirked grin. 

Liam returned it. “Perhaps,” he teased as well while leaning on the porch rail. “If only you had a brother and I had a sister to test out if it worked the other way as well.”

“Ha ha- No.”

Henry rode by on his bike the day Lydia and Laura were set to leave for London to pick up Kacie, not long after Lydia and Liam had decided to officially claim their relationship as one of boyfriend and girlfriend. He gave Lydia a rather meaningful look. 

“You should stay away from Liam,” he said, and the way he said it wasn’t mean or reproachful like Lydia might have expected it to be. But Lydia still pursed her lips. 

“_Why_?” she demanded. 

Henry’s brows furrowed and he looked at the sidewalk, leaning against his handlebars. “I may be a bloody idiot and wasn’t exactly nice to Kacie-” _ Understatement of the year, buddy _“-but at least I’ll _ admit _it. Liam’s… not nice. It’s… complicated.” Henry looked up to Lydia, his eyes set like stone, the look in them so hard Lydia almost had the urge to take a wary step back. “He’s still my brother. But he’s going down a path that someone like you shouldn’t go down.”

Lydia didn’t respond to him. She didn’t know how. So Henry sat back up on his bike and rode off. Lydia didn’t talk to Liam before she left for London, even when Laura said he was on the phone for her. She shook her head and went back to debating about the outfit she’d wear when seeing Kacie again.

It was awkward, standing on Platform 9¾ without Kacie, the _ witch _ of the family, there with them. But also in a skirt and in makeup. No one there expected any different of Lydia, but she still felt like all eyes were on _ her_. 

Lydia breathed a sigh of relief when the train pulled in. 

Lydia saw Kacie first. She stood with a tanned girl with a messy mane of dark curly hair even more unruly than Kacie’s was the rare times it was out of her neat plaits. 

Lydia pulled on the sleeve of Laura’s shirt and pointed in Kacie’s direction once the dark skinned girl had left. 

“Kacie!” Laura raised her hand high above her head in a wave until Kacie noticed them. Kacie’s face broke out into a huge smile and she raced to her mother, practically throwing herself at her. Laura hugged Kacie tightly, and Kacie squeezed back. “Oh sweetheart, I missed you!” She pulled away from Kacie, her hands still on her shoulders, and her eyes grew wide. “You’ve grown again! Oh, my beautiful Kacie!” She pulled Kacie close and kissed her head. Lydia rolled her eyes.

Kacie rubbed at her eyes while laughing. “No- No I haven’t,” she denied. “I’m still just Kacie…” 

_ You’ve never been ‘Just Kacie.’ After all this time, I thought you knew. _

“Pretty sure you’ve grown taller than me again.” Lydia folded her arms, her hip jutting out. She couldn’t help the fond expression she gave Kacie. They’d been going on and off to who would be taller over the years. But Lydia was just about to stop growing, and Kacie still had a bit of time left before she did, so it was obvious who it would be.

But Lydia couldn’t help but revel in the look of complete shock on Kacie’s face when she finally pulled away from Laura to get a good look at Lydia.

Adorable pink skirt in perfect pleats? Check.

Black and white shirt in perfectly intentional fall off shoulder? Check.

Neatly straightened elbow length white undershirt? Check.

Intentionally messy ponytail and simplistic makeup? Double check.

Lydia felt smug, and couldn’t help but let it show. Right up until the moment Kacie poked her cheek, and she felt them grow hot. Lydia smacked Kacie’s hand away. 

“I just wanted to make sure it was the real you!” Kacie exclaimed. 

“Of course it’s me!” Lydia screeched. “Who else would I be?!”

“Some impostor trying to trick me?!”

“Who would bother to do _ that_?!”

Laura sighed fondly, placing a hand over her heart. She wrapped an arm around both Lydia and Kacie and pulled them close as she guided them off of the platform. 

“Come on girls,” she said, “let’s go home.”

Home, Lydia was surprised to find, was exactly what she thought of the little house on Telling Drive.


End file.
